Feels Like Grace
by purplehairedwonder
Summary: When you love someone, they get under your skin and curl up in every crevice of your soul no matter how many walls you put up. They do it without a thought or effort, and there's no defense against it. That's what makes it—makes them—so dangerous. The Not Words 'verse epilogue.


**Author's Note:** Happy New Year! This is the twelfth - and final - installment of the _Not Words_ 'verse. There will be missing scenes and timestamps, as I've been taking prompts on Tumblr, but this is the epilogue to the main story. Thank you to everyone for all the love and support you've shown me and this 'verse. It means more than I can say!

Story title comes from the Daughtry song "Baptized."

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

**Feels Like Grace**

* * *

Blaine was absently fiddling with his tie, unable to quite keep still, when he heard a snort of laughter from the driver's seat. He glanced over to see Sebastian giving him an amused look—the one that always made Blaine want to whack him in the arm—before focusing on the road again.

"What?" Blaine demanded, dropping his hand from the skinny tie that Sebastian had wrapped his fingers around the moment Blaine had stepped onto the Andersons' front porch twenty minutes earlier, though Blaine had batted his hands away, cheeks warming as he muttered, "Later."

"You're nervous," Sebastian pointed out helpfully.

"Of course I'm nervous," Blaine replied tartly, jerking his head to look out the passenger window.

"It's just the rehearsal dinner."

"Your _father's_ rehearsal dinner."

"You weren't this nervous when you met my mother," Sebastian said, glancing at Blaine out of the corner of his eye.

"I was otherwise preoccupied at the time." Blaine had been too busy trying to keep Sebastian from falling completely to pieces in the wake of his grandmother's death to spare the energy to be nervous about meeting Julia and Jean.

But the prospect of meeting Sebastian's father was intimidating. He was one of the most powerful men in Ohio's political sphere, which Sebastian had been all-too-pleased to brag about whenever he could in high school. He was well connected, and Blaine had built up a mental image of a stern, imposing man who fashioned words into sharp blades, cutting precisely in and out of the courtroom. (Sebastian had to get it from somewhere, and it obviously wasn't Julia.)

Despite the fact that Sebastian would be following his father's footsteps into law, Blaine got the impression that they weren't particularly close—whether a function of his father's long work hours or of something more personal Blaine didn't know. But he could still tell that this meeting was important to him. Blaine didn't want to do anything to mess up the current tenuous peace between the Smythe men, especially the day before the elder Smythe's (_second_, Sebastian had repeatedly emphasized) wedding.

"We don't have to stay for long," Sebastian offered after several minutes of silence.

Blaine turned from the passing scenery with an incredulous look. "We're not ducking out of your father's rehearsal dinner early, Sebastian."

Sebastian shrugged. "The wedding's not until tomorrow."

"And you're _in_ the wedding. You have to be at the rehearsal."

Sebastian shrugged dismissively. "I hand my father the ring and give a suitably nauseating speech at the reception. Any idiot could remember that."

Blaine flopped back against the car seat with a long-suffering sigh, crossing his arms. "Careful, someone might accuse you of sounding sentimental."

"You know me, Anderson," Sebastian replied, raising an eyebrow. "Any excuse to be crass."

Blaine rolled his eyes, but couldn't help his lips twitching as they drove toward Westerville.

* * *

"So that's the Anderson boy."

Sebastian tore his gaze away from Blaine across the restaurant, where he was chatting with some members of the bridal party, to his father. William Smythe had curious look on his face as he glanced between Blaine and Sebastian, a half-full glass of wine between his fingers.

Over Christmas, William had informed Sebastian that he and Rebecca, his decades-younger bride-to-be he'd been seeing for over a year now, had set their date during Sebastian's Spring Break so he could be part of the wedding.

Sebastian supposed he wasn't _technically_ his father's best man since he hadn't been responsible for any of the other traditional best man duties while at school, but William had still wanted him standing up with him at their small ceremony. Sebastian was to be joined by his uncle and his father's best friend from law school, both of whom he'd briefly spoken with during the rehearsal earlier and were currently chatting up Rebecca and her mother.

Over Christmas had also been when Sebastian had finally told his father about Blaine. William had known Sebastian was seeing _someone_—which had been a shock enough—but Sebastian had been stingy with the details, reluctant to tell him it was the boy he'd nearly blinded junior year, which had forced his father to intervene on his (and the Warblers') behalf. He had no sense of how his father would react.

But when William had mentioned, not so subtly, that Sebastian was welcome a plus-one, Sebastian had run a hand over his face and said haltingly, _"Dad, I need to tell you something."_

"That's Blaine," Sebastian replied warily, watching as Rebecca made her way to Blaine, who greeted her with what Sebastian assumed were congratulations. He was fitting in among this side of Sebastian's life with an enviable ease.

Sebastian hadn't known how to read his father's reaction to learning about his relationship over the holidays, as he'd wordlessly left the room after Sebastian's confession, so Sebastian really had no clue what he might be thinking now as he looked at Blaine.

And, he realized with more than a little surprise, he actually _cared_.

He cared what his mother thought about Blaine even though he only saw her a few weeks a year. And now he cared what his father thought, though it sometimes felt like they were two people who barely knew each other inhabiting the same space whenever Sebastian dragged himself home from school.

William was silent so long that Sebastian thought he might've actually gotten up at left at some point, but when Sebastian turned to look at him again, he was startled to see his father studying him intently, like he was a puzzle to be solved.

"Dad?"

William shook himself and glanced back at Blaine before settling his gaze on Sebastian. "Sorry. It's just, I see it now," he said.

Sebastian frowned. "See what?"

"When I met your mother," William said, his voice softening in a way Sebastian wasn't used to in relation to Julia, "she wanted nothing to do with me. I was a hotshot associate just out of law school and she was an established paralegal."

Sebastian frowned. "What—?"

William held up a hand, and Sebastian shut his mouth. "Julia had good reason to want nothing to do with me," he continued. "I'd been at the top of my class at Columbia and really thought I was hot shit coming back to Ohio from New York."

Sebastian shifted in his chair as his father spoke, that sounding a little too familiar for comfort.

"The moment I laid eyes on her, I wanted her. And I'd never had a problem finding company, if you know what I mean, before." Sebastian grimaced, really not needing to know about his father's sex life. "I tried to impress her, to flatter her, to _win_ her. But no matter how many times I asked her out, she kept saying no."

"So what happened?" His father so rarely spoke about Julia, and even more rarely in a positive light, that Sebastian didn't know much about how they'd gotten together. He knew they must've loved each other at some point, but he didn't have many memories of a time before the fighting had started.

William smiled slightly. "About a year into my career, I fucked up a pretty major case. I'd gotten more responsibility on that case and completely messed it up. It pretty much wrecked me since I was sure my career was over before it had even started. And you know what? Your mother took me out for a drink."

There was a faraway quality to his father's face that Sebastian wasn't sure what to make of.

"The case was humbling," William continued, "but her reaction even more so because she was more sympathetic—kinder—than she had any reason to be. Especially since the partners took out my screw up on her, since she was supposed to help me but I'd done the work alone to impress her."

"And you and Mom?"

William shrugged, though his lips twitched up slightly. "She made me realize something important."

"What's that?"

"That I hadn't been in love with her until then. That I'd had no idea what love really was until then." William fixed Sebastian with a sharp stare. "Because when you love someone, they get under your skin and curl up in every crevice of your soul no matter how many walls you put up. They do it without a thought or effort, and there's no defense against it. That's what makes it—makes _them_—so dangerous.

"And that night at the bar, I knew just how much trouble I was in."

Sebastian swallowed.

"Love makes you want to be a better person, because they deserve so much more than you could ever be. More than you could ever give them." William threw back the rest of the wine in his glass and set the empty glass down on the table with a thunk. "When I started wanting to spend fewer hours in the office and to get out and live again, that's how I knew I was in love with Rebecca."

William nodded toward Blaine. "I see the man he makes you _want_ to be, Sebastian." He smiled a little sadly. "When you told me you were seeing the same boy from high school, I wasn't sure what to make of it. I knew he'd gotten under your skin with everything that happened. I'd never seen you like that before. But I also didn't know what kind of man that was turning you into.

"But now? I see it."

Sebastian opened his mouth but shut it again, not really knowing how to react to that. His father nodded once more and rose, clapping Sebastian on the shoulder as he passed. "I know I haven't been a font of fatherly advice for you, Sebastian, and I'm sorry for that. I really am. But if you take any advice I ever give you, take this: Don't ever let that go."

* * *

"I liked your speech," Blaine said, breaking the silence of the evening as they drove.

The reception was over and William and Rebecca had long since headed off to get ready for their honeymoon, but there was something clearly itching beneath Sebastian's skin so Blaine had suggested they drive around Westerville for a while. They'd loosened their ties and shed their tuxedo jackets as a local radio station crackled a Top 40 song lowly, barely audible next to the heater.

"Thanks," Sebastian replied curtly, eyes remaining glued to the road in the fading dusk.

Blaine pursed his lips but didn't push. Sebastian would tell him what was bothering him when he was ready. (He hoped.) Blaine didn't think whatever was going on had to do with the wedding; his best man speech had been surprisingly touching, a lovely tribute to a man he rarely spoke about—who'd turned out to be nothing like the stern man Blaine had expected, seeming almost tired at times—and the woman he'd gotten a second chance at love with.

Blaine assumed Sebastian liked Rebecca, anyway. He was never shy about not liking someone. For his part, Blaine had liked her when they'd spoken at the rehearsal the night before; she was sharp and quick, the way one needed be to handle a Smythe. She was serious but not _too_ serious, which seemed to keep the elder Smythe on his toes; they had a good dynamic from what Blaine could tell.

More than once, Blaine couldn't help wondering how his and Sebastian's dynamic compared—before kicking himself. He and Sebastian were barely a few weeks from their first anniversary and William and Rebecca were _married_. And yet…

Blaine blinked as he realized he recognized the road they were taking.

"Sebastian?" Blaine asked in confusion as they pulled through Dalton's front gates.

"Hm?" Sebastian hummed as he steered them into the boarders' parking lot. Dalton wasn't on break this week so there were a number of cars in the parking lot, though since it was a Friday evening there were fewer than there would've been during the week.

"What are we doing _here_?" Blaine asked as Sebastian parked the car.

Sebastian shrugged. "I guess it was just habit, coming here."

Blaine didn't buy that for a second. Something was going on. And that made Blaine nervous; the one thing he'd asked from Sebastian back in Paris was no more ulterior motives.

But he hadn't made that promise, a voice in the back of Blaine's head reminded him.

"_I'm not going to make any promises I can't keep, Killer. You know who I am."_

"_Sebastian."_

"_I won't make a promise I can't keep, so I promise to trust you. And I promise to try to be a man that you can trust in return."_

A man that you can trust.

What had Sebastian said in his speech? _"My father told me something yesterday that made me think. He told me that love makes you want to be a better person, because the person you love deserves so much more than you could ever be."_ Sebastian had gone on to say that he'd seen how Rebecca brought that out in his father, but there had been a moment when he'd looked at Blaine…

Blaine snapped to attention as Sebastian was getting out of the car, and he hurried to follow suit. He grabbed his coat from the back seat, pulled it tightly around himself against the early spring chill, and moved toward Sebastian, who stood in the middle of the lawn, a mischievous look in his eye.

"What?" Blaine demanded.

"What?" Sebastian echoed, far-too-innocently.

"I know that look," Blaine replied, eyes narrowing. "You're up to something."

Sebastian cocked his head to the side, amused. "Am I?" he asked, holding out a hand.

Despite Blaine's wariness, there was something in his expression that had him taking Sebastian's extended hand and allowing himself to be led across the lawn. When he noticed the back door to the dorms was cracked open, Blaine realized that Sebastian hadn't actually just wanted to drive around Westerville after all.

But it wasn't until they ended up outside the familiar shut doors of the Dalton library that Blaine froze. He dropped his hand from Sebastian's in confusion. "Sebastian, what—?"

But Sebastian just shook his head. Blaine frowned but descended the steps and pulled the doors open anyway. He inhaled sharply, eyes widening as he stepped inside.

The library lights were dimmed, but there were two candles, flickering shadows across the walls next to a small picnic blanket.

Blaine was so overwhelmed by the gesture that the first thing to pop out of his mouth was, "That's a fire hazard."

Sebastian barked out a surprised laugh behind him, and Blaine turned to look at his boyfriend, leaning against the doorframe. His face warmed as he realized what he'd just said.

"I mean," he amended, "it's beautiful. But why?"

Sebastian shrugged and pushed himself away from the doorframe. "Do I need a reason?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow. He loved Sebastian and knew him capable of incredible sweetness despite his protestations, but romance was another beast entirely. Over the top romantic gestures were Blaine's forte, and he knew Sebastian well enough to dial down his impulses, even if he sometimes felt like singing about their love from the rooftops. It was a small compromise, all things considered.

And yet, here they stood…

Sebastian scratched the back of his neck and glanced away, clearly embarrassed. "Happy Anniversary."

Blaine frowned. "But it's not our anniversary." It wouldn't be for another couple of weeks.

They'd been dancing around the topic of what to do to celebrate; Blaine and Kurt had celebrated every anniversary they could think of, from the day they met and first date to their first kiss and their first time as well as any number of smaller events like their first coffee outing at the Lima Bean or the first duet they'd sung together. But that was young love, innocent and naïve in so many ways; what he and Sebastian had now was different and deserved to be celebrated differently.

"I know," Sebastian agreed quickly. "But we'll be in New York on our actual anniversary."

Blaine shook his head. "I don't understand?"

Sebastian, slightly exasperated, gestured around the room. "This is where we first met, Killer."

Blaine's eyes widened as he remembered that day, seemingly a lifetime ago, when he returned to Dalton to invite the Warblers to see him in _West Side Story_ and had immediately caught Sebastian's attention. Notes of "Uptown Girl" echoed in the back of his mind.

Blaine's lips curled upward as he held out a hand to Sebastian. The other boy took it, and Blaine pulled him into his close, looping his arms around his neck. "Your voice gave me chills."

"You thought I was a freshman," Sebastian teased, resting his hands on Blaine's hips.

Blaine laughed, his forehead falling forward onto Sebastian's chest. "I didn't really. I just didn't recognize you."

"So you thought freshman instead of transfer?"

"Shut up."

Sebastian just hummed in response, and Blaine turned his head to listen to Sebastian's steady heartbeat a moment before looking back up and smiling.

"This is really special," he said quietly. "Thank you."

Sebastian gestured toward the picnic blanket, and they were careful not to knock the candles over as they shed their coats and sat down. They pulled out some sparkling juice, a couple of champagne flutes, and a few desserts and plates.

They ate in silence for a time, though Blaine couldn't help but shoot curious looks at Sebastian, wondering what had inspired this. It was incredible but just didn't seem Sebastian's style.

"Would you stop looking at me like that?" Sebastian finally snapped without any heat.

Blaine immediately glanced down at the blanket, his face heating in embarrassed at being caught. "Sorry."

"Just _ask_, Blaine." The eye roll was practically audible.

"Fine." Blaine looked up. "Where _did_ this come from?" he asked, gesturing around the room. "It's wonderful, really. But it's also a bit more…"

"Sentimental?" Sebastian prompted, lips twitching up.

Blaine laughed, remembering the previous day's conversation in the car. "Exactly. It's a bit more sentimental than your usual fare."

Sebastian was quiet for a moment, gaze dipping down. "My dad said something to me yesterday," he finally said. "Got me thinking."

Blaine tilted his head slightly. "What, like what you mentioned in your speech?"

Sebastian shook his head. He took a breath, like he was steeling himself for answering. "He told me never to let you go. Because even he could see that you make me better."

Blaine frowned. Whatever he'd been expecting from Sebastian's response, that wasn't it. "So you did all this because…"

"I don't want to let you go," Sebastian replied. "So I thought, _what would Blaine Anderson do?_"

Blaine couldn't help the smile pulling at his lips. "And this is what you came up with?"

"Nah." Sebastian finally looked up at Blaine. "I drew a blank so I called Evans."

Blaine let out a startled laugh. "You called my best friend for romance advice? I'm not sure whether to be pleased or worried." Sam was incredibly sweet, after all, but some of his plans had been known to hit a snag or three in the execution.

Sebastian shrugged self-consciously and ran a hand through his hair. "It seemed like a good idea. And I called in a few favors from some of the Warblers I knew who hadn't graduated yet to set this up at the last minute."

"It was a great idea," Blaine assured him. "I love it." He reached out for Sebastian's hand and stroked the back of it thoughtfully. "But you don't _need_ big romantic gestures to keep me, Bas. I'm not going anywhere."

He had nowhere to go back to, even if he wanted to; he'd closed that last chapter a few months earlier with a single word—_goodbye_. It was time to focus completely on the present and the future. The one in front of him now, not of his high school dreams.

"I can't risk that." Sebastian's lips twitched, though there was no humor in his expression. "My father's right. I never would've turned over a new leaf if it weren't for you. Never would've had a reason to."

Blaine frowned. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Sebastian."

"I think you give me too much credit."

"Unlikely," Blaine retorted, though the joke fell flat. He sighed. "You make me better too, you know."

Sebastian looked startled at that. "What?"

It hurt, seeing the surprise on Sebastian's face; if Blaine wasn't giving him reason to believe in what he meant to him, he was clearly doing something wrong.

"You know what your dad said at the reception about Rebecca bringing him back to life?" Sebastian nodded. "You did that for me," Blaine replied, smiling at the memory of sitting on the steps next to Sebastian the first night they'd reconnected and feeling _something_ settle into place.

"After…" He swallowed. "Well, after my breakup, I was living a half-life. I didn't even know it, but you snapped me out of it. You were kind and patient and you brought me back to life."

"Blaine—"

"You challenge me every day," Blaine went on, determined now that Sebastian would realize just how important he was to Blaine. There was no score to keep between them because they'd hurt and healed each other over and over. He twined their fingers together. "You push me out of my comfort zone and never let me settle. _You make me better,_" he emphasized, squeezing Sebastian's hand. "Never forget that, okay?"

Sebastian stared at their linked hands for a long moment before looking back up at Blaine. "Okay."

* * *

Sebastian dropped Blaine off at his house a few hours later after texting his Warbler insiders to lock up behind them. He watched as Blaine hurried up the driveway and his porch steps to the front door. Blaine paused at the door and turned around to wave at Sebastian before going inside.

Once the door shut Sebastian slumped back in his seat, suddenly exhausted. He'd watched his father get married today; had stood up with the man as he'd declared his love for another person; had watched the way his happiness had shone through and made him look ten years younger.

And he'd been struck dumb by a single idea that had lodged itself in his mind with a nagging tenacity.

A thought he'd never expected—or expected to _want_—to have about anyone.

Sebastian looked back at Blaine's house, to his window where the light switched on. And certainty settled over him, draped like a warm blanket over his shoulders on a cold day.

_I'm going to marry that man one day._

* * *

_fin_


End file.
